


downtime

by sighduck



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:42:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9509954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sighduck/pseuds/sighduck
Summary: The first day of snow on Napana was magical.





	

 

 

The first day of snow on Napana was magical - the other 43, less so.  
  
'Better than the rain,' Finn reflects, still out-of-breath from shovelling. Or from running down the hall, maybe. Poe found him at it once and was so caught off-guard he simply moved to the side and stared after him.  
  
Were you looking for me, earlier? Finn had asked at the mess that same day, some hours later. Poe pretended not to remember.  
  
From the safety of his bed, Poe watches Finn wriggle out of his many layers; and he feels as though he is watching him through a layer of goggle-glass.  
  
'Saima lent me an extra heatpack,' Finn says, hands empty, soft and near. He crouches down beside Poe's bed as if he were very young or very sick; the smell of his sweat poking out from his shirt, under his arms...between his thighs.  
  
Poe glances up at the ceiling, putting a palm up to his lower face, warm to the cheeks. The ceiling, of course, looks the same as it has these past few hours. Still he stares.  
  
'How's your back? how do you feel?' Finn asks.  
  
The look on Finn's face smudges away, some, at Poe's embarrassment. 'Better,' he replies, more or less truthful, drawing his fingers up against Finn's cheeks. He misjudges the distance; grazes the first few letters from Finn's lip, instead. _Bet_ - _ter_ , Finn almost said.  
  
'--Better?' he repeats, catching Poe's hand before he can pull away. 'Oh, so you don't need me here, then.'  
  
Poe smiles at him, roundly - and is all at once tired of lying to him, of shrugging away his regard, of fearing it will fall too heavy on them both.  
  
'I'm only better 'cus you're here,' he admits.  
  
Finn's eyes narrow just so, just slightly. 'You're sweating,' he observes, pulling his hand free to press to Poe's forehead. His palm is dry, cool and callused. 'And you feel really warm.'  
  
Poe huffs out a laugh - he's fine, he thinks, and he says so - closes his eyes, holds a hand atop Finn's to keep him there. He opens his eyes again...and there's Finn, the window's snow-bright sunshine illuminating every wrinkle of worry on his face. And still beneath it, a trust, an affection, a patience. Poe lets their hands fall free, carefully cataloguing Finn's features - his lips; his nose; his _eyes_ \- and for once doesn't flinch away from the little ache in his chest.  
  
He sidles up in bed against the wall, awkward, doesn't even have the breath to hide the pain it causes. 'O-h-h-h,' he groans, ' _ughhh_. No,' waving Finn back, 'I'm fine.' His head is starting to throb. He hasn't drunk enough water today.  
  
'O--k,' says Finn, in his Humouring Poe voice. He stands to his feet. 'Sure. Let me get that heatpack.' Poe opens his eyes and grabs Finn's hand.  
  
Outside, he sees, the snow has started up again. The base is running out of fuel and deep into impatience. Poe just doesn't have the time to be getting old, or sick - there are simply too many things to do.  
  
But Poe grabs Finn's hand and Finn - Finn waits for him. The words press up against Poe's throat; the fear within him is old, too, and worn.

 _I love_ \-- he fumbles: dizzy, tongueless. _I need_ \--  
  
And Finn holds his hand. And waits.

 

 


End file.
